Chapter Text
She heard and recognized Ducky’s voice long before she had even shifted on the mattress, stretching her legs out slowly. She smirked to herself as she half listened and kicked her feet free from the topsheet, hearing their combined voices but not with enough definition to know exactly what they were saying to each other.
Jack kept her eyes closed, stretched back flat in the comforting smell of him as his voice answered with gentle warmth. Another small laugh puffed past her lips as Ducky picked up the conversation once again, his portion always two or three times longer than Jethro’s. Gibbs was monosyllabic most days of the week - she didn't figure he got any more extemporaneous on Saturdays. Especially when she was fairly sure Doctor Mallard’s arrival had been a surprise. Gibbs would have warned her otherwise, somewhere between one and two thirty in the morning, between whispers and fumbling and laughter.
“And what about Jacqueline?” She sighed in appreciation as she caught at least that part of the conversation. She only caught the actual words as he moved from one room to another, passing the bottom of the stairs.
Mallard’s comforting voice on her name always sounded so wonderfully warm and sweet. She loved that he used her full name, that he treated it as something to be cherished and held softly, reverently. He was such a damn fine gentleman. She hadn't known him nearly as long as most of the others and she still missed seeing him, missed that near pedantic way of his.
Gibbs made a noise in his throat and she could nearly see him shrugging it off as the basement door creaked in answer to his tugging. “She’s upstairs.”
Well… there it was. Big truth, out in the open, implying aplenty. Jack laughed to herself and at the inelegant delivery as she stretched out farther, trying to imagine the look of surprise on the older man's face. It wasn't all that hard to do, really. Ducky was adorably expressive at times.
She strained to hear the response, though she didn’t end up needing to, really. Ducky’s answer was abrupt and louder than necessary. “Excuse me?”
“She’s not up yet,” was the answer, Jethro’s voice getting more garbled as they moved farther away.
They had to have been heading for the basement because the very last audible thing she heard was Ducky near shouting with annoyance. “That’s not at all what I meant!”
If they were in the basement then she was free and clear to get some of the coffee she'd been smelling, maybe make some toast, accidentally eavesdrop a little.
And all without having to put pants on.
Win, win.
***
“She didn’t wanna drive home,” he tossed off behind him, half waving it off as Ducky followed down his basement steps at a slower pace. “I didn’t want her driving home.”
“Did anything happen?”
He questioned Ducky's definition of ‘anything’. Because the former Medical Examiner would have been more interested in the fact that he’d ended up kissing her uncontrollably and shoving her up on his kitchen counter so that he could feel what it was like to put her legs around him.
But he was far more concerned by the fact that he had realized he was falling for her at the same moment she’d ousted his ass from a poker game and taken all his winnings with a bright grin and laughter.
Grace had seen it, too. That had been obvious. Because he'd turned his head away from Jack's smile in an attempt to breathe properly and found his friend and therapist giving him a loopy goddamn grin.
Like it was obvious to the whole wide world, therapists included, that he was falling for the mouthy blonde who had just brazenly called his bluff.
So… had anything happened?
Oh. Y'know… Plenty.
“Like what?”
“Jethro.” Ducky sighed in annoyance, shaking his head slowly as his body slanted to lean against the boat.
“Can’t kiss and tell, Duck,” he argued with a half of a laugh and plenty of deflection.
“Don't you play coy - now, you know I’ll just go up there and ask her myself.”
Now, that was true.
And completely plausible.
Mallard was one to hunt out his answers and his relationship with Jack was wide open, warm, and utterly honest. She also thought (and repeatedly said) that the older man was ‘the cutest’ person at NCIS, Kasie coming up right behind him.
She'd purposely spill the whole damn can of beans and not even blink - or clean it up. It was pointless trying to keep anything to themselves when Ducky was the one asking. Not with her involved.
“I like her here - and I like her safe. It was late and I insisted she stay.”
Ducky grinned, his eyes sparked and shining. “You two - you're the same coin you know?”
“Naw,” he grinned, letting the smile show through, not worrying about the other man seeing it. “She’s still got that copper shine.”
“Have you told her that?”
Gibbs considered it a moment, shrugged forward into acceptance. “She knows.”
“You haven't slept together?” Ducky surmised slowly, somehow aware that whatever was beginning hadn't progressed all that far beyond kissing her awhile, or watching her fight against sleep. That had been a sight, too… She’d fought valiantly to stay awake, like a stubborn kid. At least until he’d started fiddling with her hair. He had no problem bringing out the big guns when needed and most women, well, they couldn’t fight him on that.
“Stayed with her awhile, least ‘til she crashed. I grabbed a couple hours on the couch,” he admitted, more softly conversational. Gibbs shrugged after, like studying her as she’d slept had been nothing new. Like the fact she was wearing one of his shirts to sleep in was a new normalcy and nothing to get excited about.
Except seeing her bright and blonde prettiness in his one of his dark flannel shirts (and pretty much only that)… well, he had been excited. Parts of him had been, anyhow.
And Ducky likely knew it if the judicious look on his face was any indication. “At least your penchant for honesty is conversationally rewarding.”
He made a huffed noise and waved between them in frustration, “Whatdya want from me, Duck? That woman…”
His friend's eyes widened, a smile all over his face as he urged Gibbs on with a “Yes?”.